


This'll be one to tell the grandkids about

by scorpionbythesea



Series: Pretty spry for older guys [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AU, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-13
Updated: 2014-05-13
Packaged: 2018-01-24 16:03:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1611080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scorpionbythesea/pseuds/scorpionbythesea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Steve is woken up to the sight of a slightly drunk and very much in the wrong appartment Bucky Barnes. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s three in the morning,” Steve repeats firmly, “and I’m guessing you’re both drunk and running on very little sleep, so I am going to turn around and leave the room and pretend you didn’t break into my flat to crash on my couch.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	This'll be one to tell the grandkids about

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the post by tumblr user tickatocka:  
> i really want an “i accidentally broke into your house/apartment because my friend lives next door to you and i was in the area, drunk, and i thought i was climbing into the right window and falling asleep on the right couch (and i did wonder when my friend got two cats but i didn’t question it) so now i’m hungover and shirtless in your living room so um hi howya doin” au

There is a man in Steve’s living room. Not such a strange occurrence, really, but considering that the man is a complete stranger who seems to have broken in to the flat, and Steve is standing in the doorway with a baseball bat, this definitely goes on the list of bizarre first meetings. The stranger is lying face down on Steve’s couch, spread-eagled over the entire thing with his face in the pillows. There’s a jacket flung haphazardly over the arm of the couch, and Falcon is already sniffing it tentatively.

“Hey,” the man says, obviously aware of Steve’s presence. It comes out muffled against the pillow, so he angles his head slightly as to lift it barely clear of them, “when’d you get a cat, Nat?” He laughs, and Steve swears it’s a _giggle_ , before he gets over the apparently unintended rhyme and carries on talking. “And this couch? Holy shit, it’s amazing! ‘s very comfy.” Steve’s not sure who Nat is, but judging by the mans voice- heavy, with speech slightly slurred- he’s fairly certain the man is either slightly drunk or close to falling asleep. Possibly both. The one thing Steve’s certain of, however, is that this man is most definitely in the wrong apartment.

The guy lifts his head more, huffs as he turns to look at Steve, and pauses, eyebrows pulling together in confusion. “Oh, hey,” he says slowly, lips twitching into a smile, “’re you Sharon’s brother? You look like you could be Sharon’s brother. She’s cute, ‘nd so are you. Didn’t know she had siblings, she doesn’t tell me anything, ‘s as if she doesn’t trust me ‘round attractive men… Are Sharon and Nat not in, then?”

Steve lowers the baseball bat, deciding that the man is, at least for the moment, not a threat, and hopes he’s not blushing too bad. The guy’s definitely not the burglar Steve had feared he’d been, which is a victory in Steve’s book, no matter the circumstances. That the stranger is more than just a little attractive… well; he’ll take that as a bonus. Steve can just imagine Peggy and Sam’s faces if he’d have had to tell them that, five days in to living in his new place, he’d been burgled by a cute robber who thought he was Sharon’s brother—

“Wait,” Steve says, and the man jerks awake from a doze, gazes at him bleary eyed. “Sharon from flat 97B?”

The guy grunts in affirmation, adding an “obviously, duh” on for good measure. Steve rubs a hand over his face; tries to feel more indignation and anger at this trespasser sprawled out on his couch instead of mild amusement, and then smiles. “You mean Sharon and Natasha from 97B, who live across the hall?” he says and watches the man’s expression change: sleep lidded eyes going wide, mouth forming an O shape.

“Well shit”, the man says, groaning a little as he slowly sits up and runs a hand through his hair. His shirt is half open and his hair stays mussed and Steve ignores the thought of how soft it looks, focuses again on the stranger as he continues talking. “To be fair,” he says, cracking a yawn, “I kinda shoulda clocked that I was in the wrong place, but all I did was wonder about the change in furnishing. ‘Specially the couch, man, it’s great! And you have a cat, ‘s awesome! He’s cute!” The man leans down and pets at Falcon, scratching the cat behind the ears. _Traitor,_ Steve thinks as the animals starts purring and leaning into the mans touch.

“It’s 3 in the morning,” Steve says instead, yawn catching on. “How did you even get in here? I thought you were a robber.”  
The man lifts his head to look at Steve, before lifting an eyebrow and half smiling. “Well, how d’you know I’m not a robber after all? I got in through the window,” he continues, “Nat taught me; wanna know how to do it?”

“Maybe,” Steve grouses, “some other time, when I don’t need to get up in 2 hours to drive halfway across the state.”  
“Ah,” the man says, nods slowly as he lifts Falcon on to his lap, “yep, makes sense. So, when did you move in? D’you like it here?” “Sorry,” Steve says, “who are you, exactly? Not sure Natasha would understand who I meant if I told her about the potential axe murderer that snuck into my apartment thanks to her shady knowledge of breaking and entering?”

The man grins widely, “’m name’s James, but no one really calls me that. Bucky’s fine.”

“Steve,” Steve replies, gesturing lamely to himself, and then at the cat, “that’s Falcon.”

“Cute,” Bucky says, still grinning, as he looks Steve up and down. “So, hey, you’re the artist, right? Nat mentioned you a coupla times. You should totally draw me,” and he sprawls back against the cushions, looking up at Steve through half-lidded eyes.

“It’s three in the morning,” Steve repeats firmly, “and I’m guessing you’re both drunk and running on very little sleep, so I am going to turn around and leave the room and pretend you didn’t break into my flat to crash on my couch.” He leaves the room, closing the door behind him. “Huh,” Bucky says, still stroking the cat, “Nat’s occasional taste in men really is pretty exceptional. Hey, you think he likes me?”

Falcon doesn’t react to the grin, just flicks his ear as the door opens again and Steve pops his head round, holding out a blanket. “I’m still denying you’re there, but I thought you may want a blanket. Just, you know… ok. I mean, you’re welcome to stay and crash here, it’s just that this is pretty high on the list of bizarre first meetings so maybe it’s best we just pretend you didn’t mistake my living room window for your friends and are now sitting there with my cat on your lap, and… yeah. You can stay, is all I meant to say. I won’t report you, or anything, don’t worry. Right, bye”

He motions with the blanket, setting it down on the floor before smiling almost shyly as Bucky sits up, and earnestly thanks him. “Hey, thanks Steve. You’re a star, man! ‘preciate it, sorry to have woken you.”

Steve doesn’t blurt out that being woken by someone like Bucky falling into his living room is _actually pretty great don’t worry about it you’re gorgeous maybe next time you can fall into my bed_ _ok shit time to sleep, Rogers._

The next morning, Bucky wakes in a stranger’s apartment and pads his way into the kitchen, where a note is lying on the table.

 _Feel free to help yourself to coffee and stuff,_ it reads, _hope Falcon didn’t bother you too much in the night/ morning/ early dawn. I left you a key so you can let yourself out of my flat like a normal person, rather than potentially falling out of a first floor window due to a hangover. (Aspirin is in the drawer by the cups). Maybe you can bring my key back around and we can properly meet._

_See you around, Steve._

Steve returns home late that evening to find another note in scrawled writing: a phone number and simple _now I can think more or less straight I’m kinda embarrassed ‘bout what happened last night, let me invite you to dinner to apologize properly?_

Steve waits a while before sending off a text to Bucky. He doesn’t want to seem too eager. As far as bizarre first meetings go, this was number one on Steve’s list. It’s also the best.

The second, third and subsequent following meetings with Bucky are always just as good.

**Author's Note:**

> Yep, that's right, Steve's cat is called Falcon. Hehe.
> 
> AU in which Steve's an artist of some kind who just moved into a new flat across the hall from Natasha and Sharon. Bucky's just Bucky. No super serum/ brainwashing/ cryofreezing/ mcu stuff. 
> 
> (Yes, I am aware that this isn't the proper way to react when someone breaks into your flat and crashes on your couch)


End file.
